Captain's Rum
by freedomatthesea
Summary: The pirate and the savior share a drink and everything that goes along with letting go of the past. Based on Jmo's comment about "drinking with" Hook. Also, I warned that it would end up being smutty.


He looked almost serene standing along the railing of the ship, looking out at the dark, glassy water, the moon reflecting across it. But his posture didn't exude peacefulness; his back was straight - like an animal waiting to lunge. His eyes were closed, his head bowed, and Emma questioned as to whether or not she should venture to approach him.

But she knew exactly how he felt right then. The look in his eyes, earlier in the day, had told her that.

"You look like you need a drink."

Emma's voice broke the silence, making him jerk around to face her. His shoulders sank, giving up the tense posture when he saw who it was.

"And you lass look like you could use one as well." Killian retorted, brows creasing together as he looked down at the blond bathed in pale moonlight.

"Do you think the Captain can spare his rum?" Emma questioned with an ever so light teasing lilt in her voice.

"Aye, with the right company he's more than obliged." Killian gave the slightest smile, nodding his head towards his cabin. "I shan't tell a soul that you've sought my company tonight."

Emma turned her head to look at him, surprised that he knew exactly what she was concerned about. She wasn't exactly at her best, in fact she felt worse than she had when she was in the Enchanted Forest. But she didn't feel like she could unwind with Mary Margaret and David, and she sure as hell wasn't unwinding with Regina or Gold.

"Thank you." Emma said simply, stepping inside of his cabin, looking around the space. He lived humbly, it wasn't a grand cabin like she had expected. But there was a lot of things about him that she hadn't expected.

"So, what's troubling you lass?" Killian questioned, using his mouth to pop the top of his rum bottle, pouring two glasses full of the amber liquid,

Emma's eyes met his - swimming with the same confused sadness as his. "Where do I even begin? Neal's dead... Henry's gone..." _Then there's you_.

Killian nodded his head, returning the cork to the bottle, "You've been through more than your share of heartache as of late." He took a sip of the rum, eyeing her as she did likewise. "I can sympathize."

"I'm sure you can." Emma's voice wavered as her eyes fell to the tattoo showing on his wrist. He'd been looking at it - only that sleeve was rolled up.

Killian followed her gaze, exhaling heavily. "Times are changing Swan." He stated, downing his rum with a hiss. "I've been three hundred years in the past and it's gotten me nothing."

She was going to need the rum before they got into this conversation. Emma gripped her glass tightly, kicking it back and slamming the glass down onto his desk. "Give me some more."

"Well, I should have pegged you for a drinker." Killian flashed her a pleased smirk, an eyebrow arching upwards. "Here you are," He popped the cork out again, spitting it out to the side, feeling that it was going to be empty before the sun rose in the morning. "More rum for the lass."

Emma took a sip of rum, rubbing the edge of the glass along her bottom lip as she stared at him. It took the edge off of it all, and she hoped that it would make it easier to overlook what she _felt_, but it only seemed to make it worse. She noticed the way his eyes stayed trained on her, the way they fell to her lips as she slid them over the rim of the glass.

"Thank you." Her cheeks felt hot and she didn't know if it was simply because of the way he was looking at her or if it was the rum kicking in. As much as she wished it was because of the later, she knew that it was because of him.

Silence fell between them, mulling over their glasses of rum, exchanging looks that made her heart jump in her chest.

"What did you mean by times are changing?" Emma questioned quietly, ducking her head and studying her rum glass intently.

"I mean," Killian started quickly, leaning back in his seat, his eyes shifting from her to the tattoo on his forearm. "I want things from life that a _ghost_ can't give to me. I want everything that you told me I could be part of."

"You want to be part of something?"

"I want to be part of _more_ than just something, love." His voice was warm as he ran his hand over his scruffy neck, tilting his chin upwards as he looked towards her. "I want someone to _care_."

"I _do_ care." Emma's voice cracked over the words and she downed the rest of her rum as a cover. "I cared enough to leave and go with Gold to find his son, to save your ass."

"What?" His brows shot upwards and he leaned forward, elbows resting against the table. "You did _what_?"

"In a room full of people that I _care_ about, Gold used your life as leverage to get me to follow up on a deal I made with him last year." Emma explained, gripping the arms of her chair to hide the fact that her hands were shaking. "I went for _you_."

"Because you _cared_?"

"Why do you think you ended up in a hospital room in the back of the hospital, under watchful eyes, to make sure Gold didn't murder you?"

Killian cocked his head to one side, licking his lips as he searched her face. The rum had kicked in and it took him a moment to process what she was saying. "You hid me from him?" He scrubbed his hand over his face, letting out a heavy sigh. "Was that why I woke up and you were sitting on my bed and I was chained to it?"

Emma rolled her eyes, "If you'll notice I wasn't a whole hell of a lot pissed with you over the whole thing. You _shot_ a woman and I warned you not to get yourself killed. Most people, _shouldn't_ sympathize with a pirate who goes around shooting innocent women."

"Touché, love." He snatched up the bottle of rum, kicking back a look sip straight from the bottle. "You and I are more similar than I think we realize."

"No, I realize it." Emma said softly, shaking her head. "I realized it up on the beanstalk, we were both hanging onto ghosts to blame our pain on. Purposefully hurting ourselves and denying…"

"I _want_ to move on." Killian said suddenly, cutting her off completely. He rose to his feet, moving around the table, stopping beside her chair. "I am _weary_ from this revenge. It has got me nothing except more heartache."

Emma's heart was pounding in her chest and she rose to her feet, "_Killian…_"

"No." He stopped her, shaking his head, "Let me talk." Killian's eyes implored her to _listen_, to stop thinking and just hear him out. "No matter what I have tried, it's failed me again and again. My revenge was never meant to succeed. I realized that…. I realized that the moment I teamed up with Greg and Tamara. I realized that you were _never_ going to see me in the same light again; I realized my revenge had cut me off from something that could have been _it_. I was too caught up in trying to finish my revenge that I missed the opportunity to have _exactly_ what I always wanted."

"Shut up."

"Let me _talk_." His voice came out in a growl, his hand going to her waist, pulling her closer to him. He regretted the action for a single second, but her arms went around him and unlike the beanstalk, unlike a mistaking her action as an advance, her arms went around him and pulled him closer.

"I said _shut up_." Emma said again, this time more firmly, despite her heart pounding her chest and the general sensation of lightheadedness. Her hand rested at the back of his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.

They were both at a bridge that they didn't know if they _could_ cross. It could have been a massive mistake, moving on from their pasts and onto each other. They were both broken messes, with their fair share of ghosts from their past clinging to them - the helplessness, the loss, the fear, the trust that wasn't quite there, and the desire to be part of _something_.

Killian's hand slid up beneath her shirt at the small of her back and he pressed her flush against him. Her skin was hot beneath his touch – _real_. It had been so long since he had allowed himself that comfort, instead attempting to fill the hole in his heart with the chilly breath of death that a ghost provided to him.

And maybe tonight, they would forget all of their worries and cares, lose themselves in the rum and the sex, and forget who they were and what tomorrow would bring. Seeking comfort in the arms of someone who knew so little yet knew everything that there was to know.

"_Bloody hell_." He breathed out raggedly, tearing his lips away from hers to catch a breath. His hand stayed at her back, keeping her closer to him. Her own hands were working their way down to slip beneath his black shirt and drag it up over his head.

Her eyes were heavily lidded and it most certainly wasn't all because of the rum. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, with a look that was nothing but pure_ lust_. It had been too long for both of them. The fire had gone out in their lives and now, they had relit it and it was burning them both.

"Say you want this. Say you want _me_ Emma."

That was almost too much. Those were words that could have pulled her completely out of the moment, if not for the rum. Because she _did_ want him, not just like this, but as something more – something that proved the connection that ran between them. But the timing was all wrong, as it always was.

"I…" Emma started, attempting in vain to catch her breath, "I want _you_ to fuck me." She looked up at him, trying to mask the fact that she was trembling in either fear, or want, or both.

"Good to know." Killian smirked, licking his lips as he looked down at her, "That's what I was planning on doing, love."

They needed this, the release – to let go of everything and _feel_ again. But, they were going to regret it in the morning. They both knew it.

Emma curled her hand behind his neck, dragging him down for a kiss, needing to feel his lips against hers again, to feel that tiny _spark_ that was there, the heat and desire shooting through her. She gasped as he jerked her to the very edge of the desk, her legs going around his waist, bringing him flush against her, and despite the layers of fabric between them the friction was overwhelming.

She deserved a bed; she deserved comfort and worship, and adoration. But there was no time for any of that _now_, even if it was the only chance they had to be together. There was no way he could manage to get them to the bed – it was past that point now.

Emma fumbled for the button and zipper of her jeans, working them open as quickly as she could, despite the rum slowing her actions. "I _need_ you." She breathed out shakily, those words made her heart clench. There was going to be so much regret in the morning. So many words they'd pretend they never said tonight. She kicked her boots off, lifting her hips up off of the desk, motioning for him to take the jeans off of her. He complied, jerking them down with his hand and his hook and she was certain she heard the distinct sound of a belt loop tearing.

Killian's lips met hers again, the cool metal of his hook trailing up along her thigh, until it reached her underwear, fully prepared to rip them off of her.

"Only pair." Emma gasped out, her fingers curling around the hook to keep him from the action. Her fingers slid up along the hook, her eyes flickering down to it. "Let me get them off." She muttered, lifting her hips again and sliding them off, kicking them away from them without care.

His eyes were _impossibly _blue, taking her breath away as they met hers. The way that they made her feel scared her, because she knew that everything that was there was fully reciprocated. It had always been, but the fear of it _not_ working, held her back. She couldn't lose this connection.

"_Emma_." He breathed out raggedly, his lips tracing along the curve of her jaw, his hand drawing up her leg, to her hip, bringing them around his hips. His leather trousers still separated them, but the friction of grinding forward against her was still overwhelming, sparking the need for her even hotter.

Her hands went between them, tugging at the laces that held his pants closed. Her fingertips brushed against him and she smirked at the groan that passed his lips. "Do you like that?" She questioned breathily, her fingers loosely wrapping around him, sliding along his length.

Killian pressed his tongue against his cheek, his eyes half lidded as he looked down at her, "_Aye_." He replied, his hips rocking forward against her hand. He held her hip a little firmer; certain there would be dusty bruises there in the morning. Neither of them cared what marks they bared, they would only serve as reminders of something they could _never_ forget.

Emma guided him forward, settling her legs around him again, her arms going over his shoulders, nails raking over his back. Their breath danced across each other's faces, lips brushing, eyes locked on one another's. It was a breathless moment, one that felt so monumental. Killian thrust forward without warning, seating himself fully within her, hip to hip.

She cried out and his lips sealed against hers, not wanting her punch-happy father to barge in on them, fearing that his daughter was being harmed.

They moved together perfectly, as if they were crafted for this very moment, to fit together like two halves of the same whole. Her nails bit into his shoulders, leaving red, crescent moon shapes in their wake. His hips drove forward again and _again_. Pushing them both forward, right to the very edge of oblivion, where they both fell over together. Clinging, desperately, to the only life raft that they'd even been offered. Each other.

Emma didn't know when or even _how_ they wound up in bed, tangled in each other's limbs, arms curled around one another. But that wasn't how she worked, no matter how right it felt. The sky was still dark outside the cabin and she knew that it hadn't been long since it all began. She untangled herself from the sleeping pirate, memorizing the way he looked there in that moment. _Serene_. There wasn't a care on his face, his muscles were relaxed, the tension gone, and there was even the faintest smile on his lips as he adjusted to her absence, reaching for a pillow and bringing it close to his chest.

Her heart ached as she moved away from the bed, finding all of her carelessly discarded clothes and dressing again.

She couldn't do this. She didn't _stay_. No matter how inviting that spot on the bed beside him looked, no matter how warm and _real_ he felt beside her.

Emma stared for what felt like hours. Her eyes glued to his sleeping form, trying to sear that image into her mind, like the others that would never cease from haunting her. He was _perfect_ for her. He met her, challenged her, and neither of them had to _change_ for it to work. The only change that would have to happen, was to lose the self-preservation and learn that they could be with someone and not just _alone_.

"I'm sorry." Emma whispered as she finally tore her eyes away, turning her back and heading for the door.

"It's alright love." Killian replied, his voice was heavy with sleep.

She slowly turned back around to face him, her arms crossing across her chest, sinking into herself. "I couldn't stay."

"I understand." He sat up slowly, his eyes meeting hers from across the room. "It's a one time thing, I get it."

"It was a mist…" Her words ran dry and her face crumpled. "I don't know what it was, but the one thing I know is that … _no one_ can know. I can't stay because _they_ –" Her parents. "They'll judge me for this. It won't be _real_ to them… It will be just some comfort fuck and discredited completely."

"I though that's what it was." Killian ventured, though they both knew full well that wasn't what he was hinting at.

"No.' Emma shook her head, her eyes falling to the floor. "When _we_ get home… Once Henry's safe. We'll work on this… we'll figure it out."

"Well, love," He started, pulling the sheets up around him more, "I'm not going anywhere… Whenever you're ready to face this, for whatever it was. I'm here."

"I know you are." Emma said quietly, nodding her head slowly. "And I'm sure this will end up happening again someday and we'll just…"

"Blame it on the Captain's rum." Killian offered, a small, warm, smile on his lips when she glanced up at him quickly. "If someone finds out, they needn't know that the Captain's gone soft for you and you've got one for me, we just blame it on the strong drink."

Emma laughed then, breaking free from the somber disposition. "That's what we'll say then." She stepped backwards for the door again, "Sleep well, Killian."

"You as well, my love."

Her heart clenched again, but she kept going. _My love_.

_My love_.


End file.
